"sacrifice"タグの名言

In an attempt to fix a crooked world, she broke herself, her heart, and her sanity.

Let us here observe, that a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things, never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation.

And here she was. Lying on the floor of a dusty, empty, locked room thinking how grateful she felt. She smiled, though it hurt tremendously to do so, thinking how blessed she had been to have spent twelve years with the most precious gifts from God. She felt honored that they called her mother. She knew she had done the best she could teaching them about life and love, faith and family. Margo lay slowly dying from the wounds inflicted by a monster, but she was at peace. Because though the devil meant it for evil, God turned it to good.

when you want to go up that mountain and everyone else around you is telling you that is too hard, and you’ll never going to make it, please listen to that small voice inside your heart and one day you will reach the mountain top

This is the one who will find us. He's the one who will lead them all back to me someday. He's the explorer. El curioso.

Do not tell me about your principles, for words are easy to craft and talk is cheap. Rather, let me see you live them out in the sentence and syntax of everyday life. And let me see that not so that I know that you understand the principles that you espouse, for that is easy. Rather, I want to know that you understand the sacrifice of living them out, and that the weight of the principle offsets the sacrifice of carrying it.

Although I’m a bit tentative about it all, I would like to say that if my death saved your life I would gladly engage in such an exchange. But if I must make that exchange knowing that you are likely to reject it, and that you will turn on it and brutally ridicule it until the beauty of my sacrifice is altogether destroyed, I cannot imagine taking such an action. Yet, God does that every single day.

On every trip back to the Midwest, I step aside from my schedule and visit my parent’s graves. And with trimmers in hand I kneel down and I cut back the intruding grasses and occasional weed that has edged up against their headstones. It is not in grief that I do this, but in the fondest recollection. The tears that often visit me there are those of joy; that God had thought enough of me to bless me with parent’s rich in love, ever bound by sacrifice, and sturdy in faith despite the nature of the adversities that so often beset them. And as I leave their graves and head back to the pressing demands of my world, I depart with the commitment to live my life in a manner that my children will find no grief at my grave, but joy in knowing that God chose me for them.

Lord, I come to you in meditation and prayer. I ask that you never turn from me. Never let me lack communion with you. Let my life be filled with all the beauty that abides in you and let these things guide me. If I have wronged you or your laws in anyway, even in 'thought', please forgive me. You know deep in my heart I want and I try to do good but I fall short. At times, I despise my flesh; I know what I have to do. I want to do it but I choose not to & I'm sorry.

God’s angels are indifferent and apathetic. They have no feelings. They know nothing of passion, of love, of beauty, or even of justice. They understand nothing. They are the indoctrinated employees in God’s investment bank. They do nothing but praise themselves and each other and their boss and their company. Opportunistic cheaters and thieves of love and justice and beauty they are. Their CEO though, isn’t God but Satan. Though without a doubt on the surface it seems as if angels work for the Lord, and they love our God and praise Him, but secretly and really, they answer to the major shareholder, Lucifer. They bow to him unconditionally and without thought. They themselves, like the weak-willed who ought to have fallen, the sheep and the scorpions, lacked the courage and bravery to stand up to God when he founded the bank of existence. They agreed to the company policy but work secretly to overthrow it in disdain at their creator’s vision. The boldest and courageous of the angels is in fact Satan himself.

We have cast surrender as weak. However, if surrender to God makes us everything we could never be on our own, then weakness would, in fact, be the unwillingness to surrender.

I give you this. Find your faith in each other. Look no further. The gods will war, and all that we do will remain beneath their notice. Stay low. Move quietly. Out of sight. We are ants in the grass, lizards among the rocks.’ She paused. ‘Somewhere, out there, you will find the purest essence of that philosophy. Perhaps in one person, perhaps in ten thousand. Looking to no other entity, no other force, no other will. Bound solely in comradeship, in loyalty honed absolute. Yet devoid of all arrogance. Wise in humility. And that one, or ten thousand, is on a path. Unerring, it readies itself, not to shake a fist at the heavens. But to lift a lone hand, a hand filled with tears.’ She found she was glaring at the giant reptiles. ‘You want a faith? You want someone or something to believe in? No, do not worship the one or the ten thousand. Worship the sacrifice they will make, for they make it in the name of compassion—the only cause worth fighting and dying for.

Without sacrifice, how can there be success?

What are you prepared to give for your dream? If it is not everything...stop pipe dreaming.

Be thankful every time ,when someone is good to you. Don’t forget that every kindness or good deed is a sacrifice to the person who is doing it.

Every good deed is a sacrifice .

It is courage and sacrifice that makes a man great.

The quintessential emblem of religion — and the clearest manifestation of the perversity that lies at its core — is the sacrifice of a child by a parent. Almost all religious faiths incorporate the myth of such a sacrifice, and some have actually made it real. Lucretius had in mind the sacrifice of Iphigenia by her father Agamemnon, but he may also have been aware of the Jewish story of Abraham and Isaac and other comparable Near Eastern stories for which the Romans of his times had a growing taste. Writing around 50 BCE he could not, of course, have anticipated the great sacrifice myth that would come to dominate the Western world, but he would not have been surprised by it or by the endlessly reiterated, prominently displayed images of the bloody, murdered son.

I could see Mount Sodom beyond the distant shores, where the goat had been chosen as a sacrifice to redeem the wicked tribe.

If gazelles had a religion and the lion was their god they could, in order to appease his appetite, voluntarily surrender one of their number to him. This is exactly what happens among men: religious sacrifice springs from a state of crowd fear. It serves to halt the pursuit and, for a while, stil the hunger of the hostile power.